


wrapped up in clover

by riseupwiseupeyesup



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riseupwiseupeyesup/pseuds/riseupwiseupeyesup
Summary: He rises from the couch. The sketchbook in his hand falls to the cushions with a soft thud, the pencil rolling into the gutter between the pages, smudging the outline of Tony’s figure. As quietly as he can, Steve moves to stand behind Tony.Tony, who still has no idea Steve is here.Oh honey, Steve thinks.





	wrapped up in clover

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea and it took forever, but it's fine. Thank you to the MCU Steve/Tony discord server for being endlessly supportive, Atto ([FreyaS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaS/pseuds/FreyaS)) for being my beta, and everyone else who read it for me!

_I’m gonna do it,_ Steve thinks.

It’s warm in the workshop, and as far as he can tell, Tony doesn’t know he’s here. He’s in the middle of the room faced away from Steve, tense, hands gracefully moving across the holographic screens as he barks commands to FRIDAY. The nanites from the reactor move up and down Tony’s body in a dance that suggest he’s running tests. 

They had both made promises to each other, after Thanos. Tony had walked into Steve’s room, head held high, voice unwavering, and informed him that they were done with the separation. That their falling out was the reason they’d lost, that he wanted to forgive Steve and he couldn’t do it if they were apart. He’d promised Steve that a day wouldn’t go by where Tony wasn’t there to protect him. Steve, unable to do anything else, had kissed Tony and whispered _me too_ , _sweetheart, me too_ against his lips. Their conversations over the following months had only reinforced the promises they’d made that night. 

Cut to yesterday. Tony using nanotech to shield and evacuate citizens. Steve leading the new Avengers in their first battle post-training. He remembers the panic that crept up his neck when the building blew up under his feet, remembers the split second of terrifying uncertainty when he was falling and falling, and Tony wasn’t there to catch him. It was fine of course, Peter caught him and zipped him to the ground, but he knows Tony has it in his head that he failed.

They were supposed to talk about it when they got home last night, because one should never leave an issue unresolved, but Steve had opted to lead Tony to bed and gathered him up in his arms. Pulled him close and breathed him in. When he woke, Tony was gone, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out where he was.

Days later, here they are. Tony, working on the suit. Steve, sketching-no, watching him. Tony hasn’t relaxed his posture once.

  _I’m gonna do it. I have to,_ Steve thinks again.

He rises from the couch. The sketchbook in his hand falls to the cushions with a soft thud, the pencil rolling into the gutter between the pages, smudging the outline of Tony’s figure. As quietly as he can, Steve moves to stand behind Tony.

Tony, who still has no idea Steve is here.

_Oh honey,_ Steve thinks.

“FRIDAY, lights to 15 percent. Save progress and end session.” The room darkens and the nanites swiftly retreat back into the reactor. The screens in front of Tony vanish. Before Tony can say anything, Steve carefully winds his arms around his body and gently pulls him into his chest, hugging him from behind. Tony stumbles, still tense.

“Steve,” he sighs, but relaxes into the taller man’s chest and turns in his arms.  

“Sh.” Steve murmurs.

 “We have to talk about it eventually, don’t we?”

 “We will. Just be quiet for now.”

 Tony gives in, arms winding around Steve’s torso. Steve bends and buries his face into Tony’s neck, inhaling. They stand. Breathe.

 And Steve can’t help but feel fiercely proud of their progress, at how far they’ve come in less than a year. Before the Accords, if he had walked in and shut down Tony’s lab, the arguments would have been explosive; the two of them would have raised their voices louder and louder, talking over each other, until they would have been screaming at each other into the early hours of the morning. Saying everything and nothing in one sentence; a thousand different _I love you’s_ in every “take a break”, and “you’re not invincible”, and “it’s my job to protect you.”

 Now, in everything they do, the words are straightforward. They’re to the point, they’re carefully measured and spoken in even tones. It took so long for them to realize that they’re awful at subtext and reading between the lines; so fucking awful, in fact, that it caused an infinity war and half of the universe’s decimation. Steve will never let it get to that point, ever again. He knows Tony feels the same.

 And they trust each other. They always did, Steve just knows it now. He trusts Tony and Tony trusts him. That had been a heavy conversation, the guilt between them taller than mountains. It had started with Ultron, Sokovia, the Accords, Siberia. It had ended with The Snap, and the phone, and why Tony didn’t call. ( _I didn’t want to need you,_ Tony had said. _You broke my heart, needing you was the last thing I wanted._ ) Steve understands. He’s never needed someone, needed to trust someone, as much as Tony. He’s never needed to love someone as much as he needs to love Tony. Even when they were apart.

  _How are you planning on beating this?_

  _Together._

 Tony shifts, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. His right hand moves up and down Steve’s back while the left comes up to rub Steve’s shoulder. Tony turns his head to kiss Steve’s temple, and Steve can feel the smile on his skin.

 He suddenly has an idea.

 “FRIDAY,” Steve says softly, “play something slow?”

 “You got it, Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY’S voice is equally soft. The music starts to play, gentle and quiet.

 

  _At last, my love has come along_

_My lonely days are over and life is like a song_

_At last, the skies above are blue_

_My heart was wrapped up clover the night I looked at you_

 

 Steve can feel Tony’s eyes on him as he draws out of their hug. Tony loosens his grip on Steve and starts to take a step back, but Steve keeps them pressed together.

 “What are you doing?” Tony laughs, confused. Steve doesn’t say anything. He begins to place his right hand on Tony’s left hip, but decides that’s too formal, and moves it to Tony’s back. Using his free hand, Steve gently guides Tony’s right hand to rest on his arm. In the next breath, he catches Tony’s left hand and steps forward, forcing Tony to take a step back. They sway.

 “Are-are we dancing?” Tony asks, incredulous.

 “Maybe.” Steve has to keep from grinning. They turn, slowly, in a loose circle as the music plays.

 Tony laughs again, bright and full. Steve wants to make him laugh forever. “We’re definitely dancing. Where’d you learn to slow dance, Rogers?”

 “I googled it when I found out Peggy was alive. Couldn’t give her the dance though, she was bedridden by then.” Steve remembers that day, agonizingly typing “how to slow dance” into his new computer and watching the first video, testing out hand positions in the air. Remembers crying into his pillow because _she was alive,_ but not much else. “This is my first dance, actually.”

 Tony’s expression softens as his hand comes up to lay flat on Steve’s cheek. Steve nuzzles into it. “What were you waiting for?”

 Steve looks at him. This man is every single thing he has ever wanted. He leans down and presses a kiss to his lips, sweet and lingering. Tony kisses back, but he’s still expecting an answer.

 “The right partner.”

 He watches Tony’s eyes go wide as he quickly inhales, like he forgot to take a breath. “The right partner,” Tony breathes out, like he’s testing the words on his tongue.

 “Yeah.”

 The music continues.

 

_I found a dream that I could speak to_

_A dream that I can call my own_

_I found a thrill to press my cheek to_

_A thrill I've never known_

 

Steve’s still watching him. Watching Tony ponder the revelation in his head, whispering the words under his breath. Finally, Tony looks up at him, a gorgeous soft smile gracing his lips.

 “Okay,” he murmurs, and Steve can barely say a word before Tony has taken control of their mindless swaying, firmly guiding them both into measured steps.

 They dance, pressed up against each other, Steve’s face rests against Tony’s head and Tony’s head is turned into Steve’s neck. Steve has never felt so lucky.

 Too soon, the song is over. And Steve knows they need to talk.

 Tony draws his face out of Steve’s neck but keeps them close, leaning up to kiss him. There is nothing in the kiss that Steve doesn’t already know, but Tony says it anyway. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.”

 And Steve basks in Tony’s answering smile.

 

_You smiled, you smiled, oh, and then the spell was cast_

_And here we are in Heaven_

_For you are mine at last_

 

Fin.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The song in this, of course, is the gorgeous At Last, by Etta James, whose lyrics also inspired the title. Also, the dancing bit in this was inspired by [this video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lmMqqNlo7I)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :) Thank you for reading!


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